


25 Days of Fic

by orphan_account



Category: Gerard Way and the Hormones, Gravity Falls, Mindless Self Indulgence, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: 25 Days of Fic, Aged up dipper, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Hansel and Gretel, Angel!Josh, Bipper, Fluff, Gen, Gerard uses they pronouns, Hand Jobs, Human Bill Cipher, Jewish Pines Family, Light Bondage, M/M, Mild Gore, Non-binary character, Other, Post Top Surgery, Short Chapters, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Dipper Pines, Trans Gerard Way, Trans Male Character, Vent Writing, Vomiting, and weird gay shit like that, but there will be demon Bill eventually, chapter 14 is really crackfic-ish i'm sorry, chapter 21 is pure crackfic, demon!tyler, i'll add more tags as i add more chapters, not demon!Bill, when I said short chapters I meant some of these will be really short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 18:39:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 10,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5344448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Started the challenge a day late but here it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mistletoe

Most of the time, it was really hard for Josh to read Tyler.

Tyler was the straightest person Josh knew, and at the same time, the gayest.

It didn't help that Tyler constantly flirted with him. At first it was easier just to read it as a joke, because it was something he did in interviews or on Twitter. But now Tyler would be much less subtle, sending him fluffy texts and sitting all-too-close to him when it was just them.

So when it was time for the tour Christmas party, Josh didn't know whether they were going as bandmates or dates.

Other bands were gonna be there. He figured they'd be going as bandmates. He unlocked his phone and checked the text that vibrated next to him.

" _good morning little drummer boy <3_"

Then again, he could be wrong.

\--

When Josh got the text, Tyler also told him he was at the store picking up a few presents and that he'd meet him at the party. Josh took this as his cue to get ready.

He put on some jeans and a sweater, and then he was off. 

There were already lots of people there when he showed up, but Tyler wasn't there yet. He grabbed a RedBull from the cooler at the snack table and leaned against the wall by the doorway, contemplatively sipping at it.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

" _sorry 4 taking so long. picked up a present for u. ill be there soon._ "

Josh sighed.

"Hey man, what's up?"

He looked up from his phone to see Brendon in front of him, trying to hit up a conversation.

"Nothin' much, how bout you?"

"Just chilling. This party is kinda pointless when there's nothing to do but eat and talk. Where's Ty?"

"On his way. Says he's getting presents, should be here any minute now."

"Getting presents already? It's like, the seventh. Somebody's in the Christmas spirit."

Josh scoffed. "No doubt."

"I gotta go take a piss, I'll be back in a minute, 'kay?"

"Mm," Josh nodded.

_Where the fuck was Tyler._

He sipped some more of the energy drink, scrolling through Twitter.

About ten minutes later, his phone vibrated again.

" _turn around._ "

Josh flipped around, finding Tyler leaning against the doorway. "Fancy meeting you here,"

"Tyler!" Josh smiled.

He walked in a few steps and hugged him awkwardly. Then he got a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hey Josh,"

"Yeah?"

Tyler gestured up with his eyes. Oh, shit.

"So, little drummer boy," Tyler smirked. "Mistletoe."

Josh laughed. Tyler was joking.

"Well?" he raised an eyebrow. "Be a gentleman, Josh. You gonna kiss me or just stand there?"

He was taken aback. He just stood there, wordlessly and stupid.

Tyler groaned exasperatedly. "Do I have to do everything myself?" He cupped Josh's face in his hands and leaned in, planting on right on the lips.

Everyone watching squealed in disbelief.

When he pulled back, Josh was fucking speechless. "Tyler...?"

"Merry Christmas," he beamed.

Josh could never fucking tell when it came to Tyler.


	2. Hot Chocolate

There was something about being a twin that made Mabel just _know_. She knew her brother like no one else did. She knew him for sixteen years, after all.

Dipper never took a break. Even in the dead of winter, when the cold could kill a man, he ventured outside in search for answers.

And rarely did he come back with any. This was one of those times that he went more for himself than for answers. He went in self-loathing. He went because he needed time alone, in the dead silence.

Mabel knew exactly what he was doing. Sixteen years she knew him and it never changed. Dipper was always going to have days when the overwhelming insecurity swallowed him whole. She knew exactly what he was doing. He was walking without direction in the snow, digging a hole in his mind with the same phrases replaying on a loop.

Not like a broken record, but like corrective therapy. _I will never pass enough. I will never look like a boy. I will never be a boy. I will never. I will never. I will never. Never. Never. Never_.

Two hours passed and Mabel knew that after Dipper managed to get himself lost, now was around the time he'd find his way back home.

When Dipper opened the door, Mabel silently nodded. She knew it. She knew exactly what he was doing.

Tears streamed down his face, near freezing to it. As he hung his coat up, Mabel wrapped her arms around her crying brother and kissed his forehead, letting him sob into her shoulder.

"Why, Mabel? Why?" he choked, gasping and sputtering.

She sang shushes and rubbed his back as he spent himself. "I know, Dipper. I know."

Once his heaving sobs turned into quiet sniffles, she hooked her arm around his and helped him downstairs and into the kitchen.

She poured a mug of milk and popped it into the microwave, leaning against her brother's shoulder as the timer ticked down.

"It's gonna be okay, Dip. It's gonna be okay."

When it beeped, she stirred the chocolate powder into it and took a sip. Sitting him down on a chair with her, she handed it to him and ordered him to drink while she got something upstairs.

She moved him to the sofa and came downstairs, wrapping a blanket around him and sitting next to him.

Dipper still cried, but now he cried with new overwhelming emotion. He loved his sister so much. Even if she didn't know exactly how he felt, she always knew how to help. And right now, a warm blanket and hot chocolate was all he needed.

A warm blanket, hot chocolate, and his sister holding him as he cried.


	3. Snow

Stalking through the halls of the abandoned building, white gathering at his feet. His eyes bore red down it them, at the chill sweeping through the air.

Black pooled at his hands and ran down his neck like blood. He kept sinking deeper and deeper into himself. Into his element.

If he had control, he'd grow claws from his black-stained fingertips. He'd send down a wrath that made snow pile up over every single building so he could drown in it. So he'd be blanketed by the freezing numbness and lulled to sleep like a lamb to its slaughter.

The snow was like a worst enemy and a best friend all at the same time. It ran cold just like the blood in his veins and felt like home to him, but just the same it felt distant. Foreign. Like some kind of mangled sense of joy.

Like the way some demons looked at fire. They could grow transfixed with a rolling flame, where Tyler couldn't bring himself to do it. He would set this building on fire if he could, but much sooner, he'd envelope it in a whiteout.

And maybe outside it was better. He wanted to see it. He wanted to sink and drown in a pileup of snow. Maybe outside it was better.

Stalking through the halls of the abandoned building, white gathering at his feet. The red light of the exit sign flickered like his eyes. On and off. On and off.

The heavy door swung open with a blast of cold wind. Before his eyes were piles and piles and piles of snow. Glittering in the light. Perfectly smoothed atop itself.

He didn't even realize he'd started walking into it, blackened footprints trailing behind him. He looked back and couldn't even see the building anymore. Thick white surrounded him. He was alone.

Alone with the cold, quiet flurries of snow that fell on his lashes and piled at his feet. If he screamed, no one would hear him. He was alone.

Hands at his sides, he watched as black trickled down and stained the snow.


	4. Candy Canes

Tyler loved the lollipops they had at interviews around Halloween. Josh fucking hated them, because it was hard to focus or even think when Tyler was swirling his tongue around like that. Practically giving the candy a blowjob.

It drove him mad and made him uncomfortably horny. He couldn't block out the thoughts he had about Tyler doing that, just like that, to him. Lazily dragging it down his tongue and pushing it swiftly back into his mouth. Closing his lips around it, almost smirking.

The great thing about November is that it's the month of Thanksgiving, and doing interviews didn't involve candy.

The suck thing about December is that there's something even better than lollipops for Tyler to play with.

"Would you boys like candy canes?" the interviewer for MTV asked, smiling warmly.

"Of course," Tyler laughed. "I love candy."

Josh gritted his teeth, pissed at the world.

"How about one for the drummer?" the interviewer, whose name was Kathy or something, directed toward Josh.

"No thank you," he managed.

"Okay," she smiled. She looked back over to the camera, and Josh looked over to Tyler. "So, are you two excited for the holidays?"

"Absolutely," Tyler replied instantly, twirling the candy cane in his fingers. "Y'know, most wonderful time of the year and all." He closed off his answer by popping the long end of the candy into his mouth.

"I know, right?" she beamed. "First things first though, you guys announced another tour next summer. How are you feeling about that?"

Josh watched as Tyler's eyes wandered for a few seconds, thinking on the most Tyler answer possible. And while he did this, Josh wondered whether the singer was purposely or absentmindedly being pornographic about the way he was sucking that thing.

"It's always an honor to perform for our wonderful fans. And, of course, to tour with this wonderful man," he said, wrapping an arm around Josh's shoulders. Josh's face heated up.

"Yeah," Josh nodded nervously. "Being bros and whatnot."

The interviewer laughed. "Nice save," she said, eyeing Josh.

He tried not to let the shock register on his face. Was it that obvious?

Tyler laughed too, pushing the candy cane deeper into his mouth and scandalously sucking it.

Josh was going to kill him when this interview was over.


	5. Christmas Tree

Going out and getting the tree was Dipper's favorite part, because it made him feel rugged and manly. Decorating the tree, obviously, was Mabel's favorite part.

"You can never have too much glitter," she'd said, putting up yet another sparkly pink bulb. Dipper took one look at the tree and knew yes, yes you could.

"Mabel, it looks beautiful, but maybe we could tone down the glitter a little bit,"

"Nonsense!" she cried, pulling out a long string of silver tinsel.

This right here was the ultimate insult to his manhood. You spend all that time out with your uncle, cutting down a tree and carrying it home, and your sister takes your hard work and covers it in glimmering pink ornaments.

"What in the name of hell is going on here?" Stan said as he shuffled through the door.

"Grunkle Stan! Look how pretty this is!"

Stan visibly shuddered, but digressed. "Looks great, Mabel."

She squealed in delight.

"Yeah, great, for a thirteen year old girl."

"Now, Dipper," Grunkle Stan warned.

Dipper sighed. "Sorry, Mabel. I meant nine year old girl."

Stan jokingly smacked him on the shoulder. "Maybe it'd look even better of we took down some of the pink ones and replaced 'em with silver ones,"

"Great idea!"

"Or maybe we should just take down all of the pink ones," Dipper groaned.

"Aww, look at you, trying to be so manly," she teased. "Sixteen and still as defensive as you were when you were twelve."

Dipper's face flushed red.

"Made you blush!" she giggled.

"I am not blushing!" Dipper testified.

"Kid, if you were any redder, you'd be a tomato," Stan chuckled.

Mabel continued to pretty up the tree. She then jumped to the ground in front of them, twirling another string of tinsel - this one gold - in her hands. "Embrace your girliness, Dipper. Embrace it!"

"It is _not manly_ to dress up a tree like America's Next Top Model,"

"Well, it's not girly either!" she adjusted her ugly Christmas sweater. "If you ask me, singing and dancing in your underwear to Icelandic pop is a lot girlier than decorating a Christmas tree."

Dipper sighed and gave up. Grunkle Stan guffawed.

"I'm kidding, Dipper. All I'm saying is, you don't have to get so defensive about your masculinity. When you're with us, you're Dipper Pines, the manliest man in the world. Tinsel and glitter don't change that."

Reluctantly, he smiled. "Thanks, Mabes."

She wrapped her arms around her twin. "No problem, bro-bro."


	6. Angel

When Tyler was like this, Josh knew better than to be scared.

Sometimes he went cold and demonic, but having a demon for a boyfriend kind of turned him on. 

Disgustingly, but mainly, how possessive he was.

"Mine," Tyler would drone, leaving marks down Josh's skin. "Mine, mine, mine."

"Yours," Josh would reply. "I'm yours."

Josh liked being owned. Tyler liked that Josh was his. When his eyes went dark and red, a new type of lust consumed him. Lust for power. Lust for blood.

On the floor, naked like this, Tyler could swear Josh's skin glowed. 

"Beautiful," Tyler cried. Celestial. Ethereal. Angelic. "And all mine."

"Yours," Josh would reply. "I'm yours."

And in this light, Tyler could swear he saw wings rustle under Josh's shoulders.

Josh weeped the tears of angels. Tyler would be damned if Josh wasn't an angel himself.

And the more the demon looked upon him, the more he was convinced that Josh actually was an angel. 

That Tyler was in love with an angel.

"Mine," Tyler sobbed, running his black-stained fingers down Josh's ivory wings. "My beautiful angel boy."

"Yours," Josh sang, taking Tyler's other hand in his. "I'm yours."


	7. Pie

Of all the times for someone to move, it had to be in the middle of winter. Why someone would be so stupid, Tyler wondered, he didn’t know.

All he knew was that his mom ever-so-conveniently went Christmas shopping right after sticking him with the duty of greeting the new neighbors. And Tyler, being seventeen, definitely didn’t want to embarrass himself by getting stuck with whoever this new, stupid neighbor happened to be.

He didn’t exactly have anything in mind, wasn’t expecting anything specifically. Maybe a mom and dad and two preteen boys, or teenage girls, or something. He didn’t expect to ring the doorbell and have a tall, taut boy with a thick black lip ring to open the door.

Tyler never felt so small, standing on the snow-covered porch and holding a something-berry pie as this… attractive, dude towered over him.

“Hello?” he asked, and Tyler shuddered. His voice was deep and smooth and Tyler was fucking melting under his gaze.

“Hi,” he greeted, and he cringed at how small and weak his voice was. “I’m Tyler…”

The pink-haired boy confidently reached his hand out for Tyler to take it. “Josh,” he responded.

“Hi, Josh. So, my mom wanted me to… give you this,” he extended the pie in his other hand. “Y’know, because you just moved in.”

“Aw, sweet. Merry Christmas, dude.”

“Thank you! You too!” He quickly fumbled, giving him the stupid thing and turning on his heels to run back to his house.

“No, wait!” Josh called.

Tyler froze, then turned around. “What?”

“Don’t you want to come in?” he offered. “It’s freezing.”

He was so, so weak. There was no way Tyler could say no to those warm, brown eyes.

“I mean, I guess, yeah,” he stuttered.

Josh waved him in, and he followed.

As he stepped through the doorway, he felt Josh’s arm wrap around his shoulders. “You know,” he whispered into his ear, “you’re not good at hiding things.”

Tyler’s eyes snapped up. “...what?”

Josh just smirked, then winked. “Mom?” he called. “We have a guest over for dinner.”


	8. Tinsel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finally some fucking smut

Dipper somehow convinced Stan to let Bill stay the night. It took a lot of arguing, a lot of “just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I’m going to have sex with every dude I know,” even though that’s what Dipper and Bill had full intentions of doing.

Bill was only a year older than Dipper, but boy did he know a lot of things Dipper didn’t. For starters, Bill was kinky as shit. After he told Dipper about all the things he’d love to do to him, Dipper soon realized he was just as kinky as Bill was.

They had so many ideas, but most of the time it was just sneaking a quick one while Dipper was over at Bill’s house and his parents weren’t home. They’d never had all night together before. And Bill never had any actual _toys_ \--what seventeen year old had access to any--but they’d learned to improvise.

“I’ll tie your hands with something,”

“With _what_?” Dipper sneered.

“There’s gotta be _something_ ,”

Dipper sighed. It was midnight. He was tired, but most of all, he was horny.

Suddenly Bill’s head snapped up and he had a bad idea glowing in his eyes. Bill, Dipper knew, was a man of bad ideas.

“You haven’t put up your Christmas decorations yet, have you?”

“Oh no, Bill-”

“Where do you keep them?”

“Jesus.”

“C’mon, Pine Tree! Do you wanna do this or not?”

The aching in his pants was a lot louder than any moral compass he had. “Fine.”

“Awesome! Where are they?”

Dipper sighed and Bill followed him to the storage room down the hall.

After a few minutes of rummaging through the boxes, he finally found a few strings of gold and silver tinsel, and a long string of Christmas lights.

“Which do you wanna use?”

“That’s gonna hurt, a lot,” Dipper interjected, gesturing to the pointy bulbs on the string of lights.

“ _Exactly_ ,” Bill hissed, eyes devilish.

Dipper groaned. “Just use the fucking tinsel.”

Bill smiled widely and evilly, taking Dipper’s wrists in his hands.

“Whoa-! Bill! Not here!” he whispered loudly.

“Why not?” he smirked.

He didn’t bother answering farther than a stutter. Both of them knew Dipper had a paralyzing fear of being caught, but by now, he just wanted to get off and go to sleep. Besides, Bill’s tight grip on his wrists was driving him mad.

“Go ahead.”

Bill’s eyes lit up instantly, wrapping the long string of tinsel around Dipper’s wrists and knotting it tightly. Dipper winced at the feeling, making Bill moan softly. He pushed him against the wall, basking in the sound of him groaning, and yanked Dipper’s pants down in one swift motion.

The older boy noted how hard Dipper was. “Someone’s been waiting,”

“No shit,” Dipper scoffed.

Bill pushed a finger in too quickly and made Dipper hiss. He barely massaged it into him before sinking in a second, and then a third. Dipper kept making strained, helpless noise, until Bill cupped his free hand over his mouth and dug it hard into his face.

He moaned senseless into Bill’s hand, pushing back for more.

“Needy already? You fucking slut,” he snapped, but wasted no time in pulling his jeans to his thighs and pushing into Dipper’s opening. Dipper’s eyes widened in shock, body flaming with pain, but instead of screaming he bit Bill’s hand hard.

Bill cursed and pulled his hand back, tightening both his hands on Dipper’s hips and holding him to the wall. Then he softened. “Are you ready for me to move?”

“Please,” he begged.

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He pulled back then snapped his hips up, again and again and again. Dipper gasped and whined, unable to push back for more. No doubt there were going to be bruises on his hips tomorrow.

“Shut up, we’re gonna wake up Stan,” Bill whispered angrily.

Dipper nodded and complied, biting his lip so hard he split it open.

Bill pushed Dipper so that his tied hands were uncomfortably resting above his head, and fucked him hard into the wall.

“Harder, Bill, _please,_ ” Dipper yelped, resulting in getting pushed harder into the wall.

After a few more thrusts, Bill came inside him and moaned deep in the back of his throat. He dug his fingers into Dipper’s hair, yanking on it until his head rolled back, and continued to pull on it and fuck into him hard. Dipper came apart messily a few minutes later, sweat-drenched and gasping.

Bill pulled out, then pressed a kiss to Dipper’s forehead as he untied his wrists.


	9. Ice Skating

They wondered how much it would take to break the ice. They glided across the ice, long black hair flowing in the winter wind. Their clothes clung tight to them, making them nothing more than a dark figure against the stark white.

As they heard the ice crunching under their feet, they wondered how sharp the skates would have to be to make a crack in the thick sheet. How hard they’d have to press to shatter it and fall. How deep they’d have to drown before the cold consumed them.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t let you do if I was there,” Mikey had told them before they left, helping Gerard put their coat on.

“I won’t,” they promised, being pulled into a hug.

Their eyes rolled behind their lids as they continued to glide across the ice. How frigid the water would be when it swallowed him. How deep they would sink if they didn’t struggle.

The feeling of the heavy liquid filling their lungs and pulling them farther into the water’s sweet embrace. How long it would take, they wondered, before death finally set her comforting hand over their eyes. How painful would it be to open their mouth and not be able to breathe.

Their hair whipped in the wind and the silence as they continued to glide across the ice.


	10. Frost

Grey December. The steps of his feet against the crisp ground was the only sound. Everything that surrounded him - the forest, the flurries, the muted sky - just droned on and made his body ache for sleep.

But still he trudged on, looking for something to answer his questions.

The silence in the air didn’t comfort, but rang in his ears like a cry of agony. The thick fog around him gave him second thoughts; what made it a good idea to be out alone in a place like this?

He tucked the journal farther into his jacket, and walked on.

Something told him he’d be looking for a voice. A sign. He was coming up with nothing. The farther into the woods he got, the more he started to wonder whether he’d already passed a certain tree or rock in the ground. Whether he had already been here before.

He almost slipped on ice that wasn’t even there. Just a thin layer of frost that warned passerby of the harsh winter coming. Winter in Gravity Falls isn’t pretty like it’d be in any other forestry. It gave a vibe that almost made someone recoil, like a long-clawed hand pointing the opposite direction. _Get out. Stay back._

Dipper wasn’t one to heed such warnings. As shaken up he’d get he’d always stay defiant, even if this almost always led to collateral damage.

He was so far into the forest that the fog came up to his ankles and blurred his surroundings. Again and again he’s trip on whatever hid beneath it, listening to the faint crunching against the frost.

Silent, sharp laughter in the distance caught him off-guard. In a panic, he tripped over a stump and fell face-first. He quickly regained himself, standing back up and brushing the dirt from his face.

In front of him, he could see yellow eyes burning in the dense fog. The laughing only grew louder and louder until his ears began to ring. But instead of letting his knees shake, he bravely - although reluctantly - stepped forward.

“Who are you?”

“You know who I am, Pine Tree, now answer me this,”

He knew that voice. This was the demon boy that stole his body a few years back. This was the man hellbent on wrecking everything.

“Bill Cipher.”

“You remember my name!”

Dipper shuddered at the giddy echoing of his voice. The fog began to clear out, thicker frost gathering on the ground.

“Now for that question, pretty boy. What’s a kid like you doing out here? So late, so cold, you could get hurt,” he accentuated his point by striding up to him and digging his gloved fingers into Dipper’s jaw.

“Back off, Cipher,” he warned.

“A little birdie tells me you’re out here for answers. Why so rigid? Don’t you want ‘em?”

“Not from you. You lie,”

“Ah, but I never lie, Pine Tree,” he vanished from Dipper’s side and reappeared behind him. “I just make deals for what I want.”

“Last time you made a deal with me, you possessed me and almost killed me.”

“And wasn’t it fun?” he whispered, grabbing his shoulders from behind and making him jolt.

Suddenly, Dipper was alone again. Alone in a greyed landscape.

Everything was flashing in fragments. One minute, Bill was there, and the next he was gone. It was like he couldn’t even trust his own eyes anymore.

But he knew Bill was back when he felt fingers trailing down his chest. “I know what it’ll take to get you to make a deal with me,” he barely breathed against Dipper’s neck.

And Dipper couldn’t see Bill’s eyes anymore, but everything was darkening around them. His breath was hot against his face, and he couldn’t think clearly anymore.

The scenario was abruptly ripped from him and he shot up from his bed in a cold sweat.


	11. Eggnog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finally i'm writing gross kinky shit

They were apart most of the night, Tyler alone at one end of the party and Josh getting buzzed with some of his friends at the other. Tyler would barely consider himself drunk, because he was only nursing his second cup of the spiked eggnog. 

Josh, on the other hand, was already slurring.

Tyler locked his phone and slid it back into his pocket, downing the red plastic cup and walking up to the drink bowl for a refill. He could hear Josh laughing as he got closer to it, then found him leaning up against it.

“Hey Ty!” Josh cried, long and drawn out.

“Oh, hi Josh.” He filled up his cup with another dose of the drink and noted the intoxication starting to set in.

“How many have you had?” Josh sang.

“I just finished my second. How ‘bout you?”

“Three, maybe four,” he giggled.

As Tyler started to suck back his cup he noticed Josh grabbing at his shoulder.

“Tyler. Hey, Tyler. Tyyyy-lerrrr,”

“Yeah, Josh?”

The red-haired boy refilled his cup then wavered it in front of Tyler. “Do you wanna chug it? Like, I do one and you do one? See which one of us can drink more?”

Usually Tyler was the sensible one, but after finishing his third, his drunkenness was starting to blur his common sense. “Yeah, how about that?”

Josh laughed giddily. “Okay, but you need to have another first, so that we’re even,”

He shrugged, filling his cup up again and sucking back another one. “Okay, you ready?”

Josh filled his cup again and waited on Tyler to do the same. “Ready!”

“Okay,” he breathed. “One, two, three, go.” Halfway into the drink his head dizzied. Once he saw Josh had already finished his and gone onto the next one, he gulped it down quick and hastily downed another in seconds. Fuck, this stuff was lethal.

On his next he was already starting to feel gone. Then, before he could tell it was happening, he started to cough some of it up.

The crowd that had begun to gather around them was closing in on him and made him feel even more claustrophobic and sick than he already was. Josh stopped for a second, making sure Tyler was okay. He nodded, moving on to his next cup.

This time, he felt his stomach dropping to the floor. Up came bile, rushing past his lips and hitting the ground beneath him. He set the cup down, trying to contain himself for a minute, and failing. Within seconds he was vomiting all over, choking and gasping as he tried to catch his breath. 

Josh came up behind him, stroking his back and he let it all out, coughing violently between spurts of vomit splashing against the floor. When it was finally all out, he wiped his dripping mouth with the back of his hand.

“I’m good,” he sang, still drunk off his ass, and filled another cup.


	12. Cider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more drunk joshler

This was the first time Josh and Tyler had gone to a Christmas party together, and fuck only knew how it was going to end when there was alcohol involved.

A bedroom, apparently.

Tyler chased Josh up the stairs, leaving the drunk partiers behind as they trailed the halls in search of somewhere more private.

They sat below the foot of someone’s bed, too blissfully buzzed to care where they were. Tyler had finished off about three glasses of cider, and Josh couldn’t remember how many he’d had. Tyler leaned against Josh, just like he always did. This time, though, he nuzzled in close.

“You smell good,” he babbled.

Josh “mm”-ed in response, sleepy and tipsy.

Tyler found himself fixated with Josh’s lips. He couldn’t stop staring at them, his eyes sparkling in infant-like fascination. Before he could stop himself, he was leaning in.

And before Josh realized what he was doing, he closed the gap and started kissing back.

It felt so natural and yet so electric at the same time that neither of them broke away. Tyler kept leaning in further, forcing his tongue down Josh’s throat and swallowing his moans. Josh pulled away only to take Tyler’s bottom lip between his teeth, listening to Ty moan as he pressed down softly.

Tyler couldn’t get enough, eating up every bit of the contact, fixing himself on Josh’s lap and grinding his hips down slowly.

Josh took Tyler by the waist and pressed him down harder, trailing his fingers down far enough to play with his zipper. Tyler pressed his hand between Josh’s legs and started to touch, feeling his zipper being pulled down, when he heard the door open.

Mark’s eyes went wide in shock. He tried to stutter a response, but instead just turned around and closed the door behind him.

Tyler started to pull away from Josh’s lap, cheeks burning red. Josh just pulled him back, taking Tyler’s mouth in his again.


	13. Peppermint

Dipper couldn’t get enough of the way Bill held him down. The way he ran he would grip him, the way he squeezed hard enough to leave bruises.

Something about Bill was pure fucking magic. He could make Dipper do absolutely anything he wanted. He could hold him down without using his hands at all if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He wanted to watch Dipper writhe under him. 

Mostly, Dipper loved the things Bill could do with his mouth--pushing his tongue down his throat. Biting any flesh he could get his teeth around.

Bill’s tongue was long and his teeth were sharp, and he could make them sharper if he wanted. He could fuck Dipper’s mouth with his tongue if he wanted to. He could bite down on Dipper’s tongue and make it soak his mouth in blood.

Both of them were caught in a hot and heavy frenzy of bloodlust and sex craze. Bill shoved Dipper hard into a wall and caught his lips in his, sucking Dipper’s bottom lip into his mouth and gnawing on it.

This time when he fucked him, Bill couldn’t let go of Dipper’s mouth. Dipper moaned and squirmed underneath him, both claustrophobic and desperate, and let Bill fuck him hard and make him gag. Bill would always taste something different on Dipper’s tongue. Most of the time it was cinnamon. This time it was peppermint.

He closed his teeth around the younger boy’s tongue and pulled on it as he bit down. He wanted to taste all of Dipper, even if he tasted different every time.


	14. Gingerbread

The first time their parents decided to leave them stranded in the forest, Dipper and Mabel overheard their conversation and planned to leave pebbles the whole way so they could find their way home. Mr. and Mrs. Pines weren't happy to find them at the door again, so they decided to leave them further into the woods.

This time, the twins were less prepared. Instead they used pieces of bread to track their way back home. But after their parents deserted them this time, when they tried to find their way back, all the bread was gone.

“What are we gonna do now?” Mabel whimpered.

“Don’t worry,” Dipper comforted, “if we just start walking, we'll find them somewhere.”

So Mabel, trusting Dipper, started to walk with him aimlessly into the woods.

After hours had passed, Dipper started to get hungry, and Mabel started to complain about leg cramps.

“Even if we can't find our parents’ house… we'll find somewhere to stop soon,” Dipper reassured weakly.

Mabel collapsed dramatically to her knees. “I’m huuungry,” she groaned.

Dipper sighed. “Me too,”

“Where are we gonna find food?”

“I’m sure if we keep walking, we're bound to find something to eat somewhere.”

Mabel made a grotesque annoyed noise but heaved herself up reluctantly and followed Dipper as he trotted through the woods.

About after an hour of walking, they saw smoke rising from the trees and decided that if they ran to it they’d find civilization somewhere. Since they had nothing to lose, they went for it. And the closer they got, the easier they could see that the smoke was rising from a chimney.

“It’s a house!” Mabel cried. “We’re saved!”

Dipper laughed in attempt to contain his relief. But when they walked up to it, they were both clearly amazed and puzzled.

Mabel ran her fingers down one of the walls. “It’s… gingerbread?”

Dipper gave this funny look and broke a chunk off, tasting it. “Yep, it's gingerbread.”

“It’s a house… made of gingerbread!” Mabel awed, her voice getting giddier with every syllable.

“Hold up, Mabel. Are we sure this is real?”

She took the piece of gingerbread from Dipper’s hand and took a bite. “It’s real,” she restated.

Immediately, they started breaking chunks off the house and eating them. They were enjoying themselves nicely until an older woman stepped out the front door.

“Hello there, kiddies,” she greeted. “I see you've found my house.”

Mabel gulped. “Hello.”

“You must be tired! Why don't you come in?”

The twins were too exhausted to argue. So through the door they went, without question. But inside, they started to realize something was off. A giant, empty cage sat in the corner of the room, and a giant cauldron filled with candy protruded from the middle of it.

“How about you follow me into the kitchen? I have some delicious treats for you,”

The two exchanged a knowing look, realizing exactly what was so off about this old lady.

“Let me just check the oven, something tasty is gonna be cooking in there…” she trailed off, opening the oven, and getting shoved and trapped inside.

Mabel and Dipper high-fived, just barely avoiding their deaths.

“You damn kids!” the woman snarled, banging on the oven door. Dipper turned the temperature up to 600°, barring the oven door with kitchen utensils. The twins left the house just before it started to catch fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you know gingerbread men live in houses made of their own flesh


	15. Presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this partially from experience except i'm a trans guy but let's be real all trans people know the holiday dysphoria shittiness and i'm super sorry to anyone who has to experience it this winter
> 
> sending good vibes, especially if you're still in the closet and have to be misgendered all holiday season. you're strong and valid. <3

“What a handsome young man you're becoming, Gerard,”

Gerard had to bite their lip to hold back tears. That's all they've heard all day. How handsome and manly they were becoming. How rugged and boyish they looked. This was not the fucking Christmas they wanted to have.

They heard it all day long and they just wanted the day to end so they could go to their room and cry. This was the sole reason they hated the holidays; there was only one person in their family that knew, and that was Mikey.

A year or so ago, Mikey came out to Gerard and their parents as gay. They were fairly accepting, but didn't really care. Gerard thought if they were to tell anyone how they felt about their gender, it'd be Mikey.

And when Mikey hugged them in response and told them what they felt was normal, Gerard felt the strongest relief they'd ever known. They knew Mikey would always be there for them.

Opening presents was the most awkward part, along with dinner. Well, dinner was bad, because being misgendered really got to Gee. But after a while they just got numb to it. After the initial “How’s my oldest boy doing?” and “Did you do something different with your hair? You should cut it back, it looks better shorter,” they just learned to tune it out. The only thing they actually had to listen for was when to pass the mashed potatoes.

But opening presents was another level of discomfort. They didn’t want anything. At least, not anything they could tell their family about. Box after box of baggy shirts and slacks, forced “thank you” after “thank you” and fake smiles that made their cheeks hurt.

They would help clean up the torn wrapping paper and immediately make a beeline for their room, burying their head in some book or video game.

This Christmas, though, they were greeted with a knock on their door. “Hey Gee? It’s Mikey,”

Gerard shot up out of bed to open the door, only for Mikey. “What’s up?”

“You forgot something,” he said, walking into the room and cracking the door behind him.

“What is it, Mikes?” they sat back down on the edge of their bed, Mikey sitting down next to them with a glittery bag in his hands.

He pulled out a fluffy, pink stocking. “Well first, this,” he said, handing it to Gerard.

Gee was shocked for a second, then cautiously reached into it and pulled out first a long bar of chocolate, then a perfume box. Their eyes twinkled in shock, on the verge of tears.

“Aw, thank you, Mikey,”

Mikey reached farther into the bag. “Wait, you still have to open your present,”

He handed Gerard a long, thin box wrapped in red and green paper. Gerard peeled gently at the tape, then slowly removed the wrapping and wrapped their fingers around the top half of the box and pulled off the top. They brought their hand to their mouth and let a few tears fall.

“I know how bad you wanted it, I remember you trying it on at the mall and being upset that you couldn’t buy it.”

They ran their fingers down the fabric of the red dress and laughed through their tears. “Thank you, Mikey. You’re the best brother anyone could ever ask for,”

Mikey pulled Gerard into a hug. “Merry Christmas, Gee.”


	16. Fireplace

Somehow, Dipper had found himself making another deal with Bill. Now he had to watch from beyond himself as Bill walked clumsily around in Dipper’s body and thrust himself into danger, just for the fun of it.

“So fucking stupid,” he muttered to himself. “How do I always get myself into this,”

“Well, I’m glad you do!” Bill cried, throwing Dipper’s body into a wall on his way to the den. Dipper cringed in spite of himself as he watched his possessed body ricochet back and his face blow up with blood. 

“Bill, stop!” he groaned, following him into the living room.

When he caught up with him, he was a little thrown off. Bill was just sitting there, in front of the fireplace. He was almost transfixed with the glow of the fire. Instead of saying anything and instigating something, Dipper just watched.

Bill’s eyes were wide with something Dipper couldn’t read. He looked like some sort of cross between a starstruck child and a deer in the headlights. Like he couldn’t tell whether to be amazed or scared. Dipper was so caught up in trying to figure out what Bill was thinking he was too late to start yelling when Bill inched his fingers to the flame.

“What are you doing? Stop that!”

Bill didn’t seem to hear him. He kept slowly sliding toward the fire before sticking his hand in all at once. Dipper shrieked, watching his own hand erupt into flames.

“ _Bill!_ What the fuck are you doing?!”

He didn’t respond, he just thrust his other hand in and started laughing.


	17. Stockings

In his stocking that morning was, along with some candy from Kitty and a few horror comics from Steve, a gift card for Victoria's Secret. Lyn Z made a point of specifying the card was specifically from her.

Jimmy thought the offer was kind but had no fucking idea what to do with it. But in the end, he found himself at Victoria's Secret the day after Christmas, looking up and down the lingerie.

“Looking for something for your girlfriend?”

He just laughed in response, looking over at the girl at the register with an expression in his eyes that said, “ _Do these tight black pants and v-neck shirt not look gay to you?_ ” The disinterested look in her eyes said she didn't read it.

It didn't matter. He rolled his eyes and moved on, looking through the lingerie.

He pulled his hair back with his hand. It felt kind of weird to not have it gelled up; the curly brown mess just kept falling in his face. He flipped it back and walked closer to the back of the store, finding different colored leggings.

He wasn't really big on the idea of buying thongs or panties to jack off in them. The whole reason he agreed to come here and browse was to buy more wardrobe for being onstage - it wasn't like he was new to wearing women's clothing.

In fact, fishnets were kinda his staple. So naturally, the stockings caught his eye.

He was more the kind of guy for the neon colored stuff; that was the kind of scene he was in. But he always had a thing for fishnet stockings. They gave off a sexy, serious vibe on one hand, and a Rocky Horror vibe on the other.

So maybe the hot pink ones he picked out would be the ones he'd wear on stage, but buying the black fishnets wouldn't hurt, either.


	18. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i got a few days behind but i'm catching back up now

Home alone meant Dipper had the kitchen and the stereo all to himself.

The kitchen wasn’t usually a mess, but now the counters had excess batter and frosting spattered all over it, and used bowls piled in the sink. The stereo was fixed on the kitchen table, blaring the Bee Gees and KC & the Sunshine Band.

Dipper switched between using the whisk to actually stir the cookie batter and use as a microphone to lipsync to Donna Summer. He used to be so insecure about being more feminine than most, but by sixteen, he’d learned to embrace it. Singing falsetto when no one was home didn’t make him any less of a man, and he loved doing it.

Home alone was Dipper’s baking time, especially around Christmas. 

He was already on his fourth separate batch, with two others cooling on the counter and one in the oven. By now it was less about the cookies and more about the fact that he was home alone and no one could judge his shitty dancing. He wiped the flour on his hands off on his apron and put them on his hips as he belted out badly in soprano and danced like he was in a music video.

Sashaying over to the other counter, he started to mix another bowl of frosting with purple food coloring and slipped on an oven mitt before pulling a pan out of the oven. 

Just as another Chic song ended, the door opened and Mabel came through the kitchen, stealing a cookie off the counter. “Hey, Dipper,” she shouted as she passed through.

“Hey Mabes,” he greeted in reply, putting another pan of cookies into the oven.


	19. Santa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a christmas gift for my homie leo so here you go man
> 
> dude i don't even ship ryden and there's no way i'm adding panic! to the tags but here's the chapter anyway
> 
> so, merry christmas leo, or happy whatever holiday you celebrate

“Would you pretend to be Santa if I sat in your lap?”

“Ryan, that’s fucking gross,”

“No,” Ryan argued, “I didn’t mean it in a sexual way.”

Brendon gave him a funny look. “Sure you didn’t.”

“I didn’t! I mean it!”

“That’s still fucked up.”

Ryan still sat seductively down on Brendon’s lap anyway, making a soft grinding motion and stopping. Brendon tried to take the situation seriously for one second.

“What do you want for Christmas, little boy?”

Ryan blushed. “Well,” he said, pressing down, “I dunno…”

“Ross, this is disgusting,”

“Stay in character!”

“I cannot believe I’m doing this.” He regained himself, then continued. “So, have you been nice this year?” He slid a hand up Ryan’s thigh, “or have you been naughty?”

Ryan’s face heated up, more so when Brendon couldn’t contain his laughter anymore and broke out in a giggling fit. “Stop that!”

Brendon threw his head back and guffawed. “This is so fucking ridiculous, I am not doing this!”

Ryan stood up defiantly and angrily started walking off. “Have you been a naughty, naughty boy?” Brendon teased jokingly, before doubling over in another spasm of laughter.

Stiffening up, Ryan flushed bright red. “Don’t say stuff like that, it makes me-”

“Oh, my god!” he cried, practically wheezing.

“Shut up!” he snapped, sauntering over. Something flickered in Ryan’s eyes. “I said, shut the fuck up,” he yelled, effectively cutting off his stream of laughter by closing his mouth over Brendon’s. 

He wrapped a leg around Brendon before readjusting himself on his lap, grinding down again and pushing his tongue in. Brendon placed his hands on Ryan’s ass and pulled him in closer, breaking off the kiss to get close to his ear.

“You’ve been a naughty boy,”

Ryan groaned in exasperation before playfully smacking him and walking away.

“No, wait! Come back,” Brendon whined.


	20. Sled

Bill’s favorite thing to do in a human body was destroy it. He just wanted to fucking wreck it. It was so much fun, pain felt so nice, so fucking entertaining. No wonder all those humans got a kick out of watching people hurt themselves. 

All Bill every wanted to do was live in Dipper’s body all of the time and just fucking torture himself. The ground outside was thick with fluffy, white snow, and it looked so _inviting_. He wanted to bathe in it. When he was in Dipper’s body, he didn’t have to have impulse control. His skin was screaming for sharp sensation, and ice-cold snow looked like the greatest place to start.

He had already taken off his shirt and shorts. It was too hot, too hot, too hot, too much and too tight and too itchy all over. Naked felt better, but he still needed something loud and jarring. Pain. Pain sounded too good. He ran at lightning speed to the front door and stood himself on the porch, relishing in the blast of cold air against his naked skin.

His skin went brittle with bumps all over and it made his hairs stand on end. The human body was so _interesting_ , the way it responded to pain. To cold. He took a deep breath, hyper aware of the way Dipper’s lungs felt as they expanded, and dove headfirst into the snow.

The cold all around him was so loud loud loud it set all of his nerves on fire. Too bad Dipper couldn’t be here to feel this. It was so relieving to just be able to give into the urge. He needed something sharp and unexpected against his skin, and the feeling of getting it right when he _needed_ it was so overwhelming.

Now he needed pain. Not that the frigid cold wasn’t painful, but it was more of a blinding sensation than it was satisfying pain. He sat up from the white pooling snow and looked around for something sharp, something that could break skin.

His eyes lit up and then smirked an evil yellow, right at the the gutter on the roof. Long, sharp icicles trailed down from it, and he never wanted to much to impale his hand on one. He pulled a chair from the porch and adjusted it underneath the gutter, stepping on top of it and breaking one of the longer icicles off. He positioned it against his palm, teasing the sharp tip against Dipper’s skin and drawing in a breath.

Abruptly, he drove it into the skin and split it open, shuddering at the sensation of the rip and the burn; dark red spilling from the wound and gathering at his feet, staining the white underneath him. He threw his head back and laughed, and laughed and laughed and laughed. So good, it felt so good. He broke off another icicle with his bloody hand, getting it slippery as he messily tried to stab his other hand. It didn’t feel as good as the first time, with the relief that came with it, but it still felt amazing.

He dropped the ice and dug his hands into the snow, bloodying it up and getting some in the wounds. It stung like hell, but he couldn’t love it more.

Then he got another idea. What was that one thing that humans did in the snow, with a kind of board thing? Where they went fast down hills? The word was on the tip of Bill’s tongue, but he couldn’t grasp it. The fact that the idea was in his head was enough for him, though, so he ventured into the garage to find one of those things.

Halfway into the garage, the word popped into his head. “A sled!” he cried, not even trying to make his voice sound like Dipper’s. He saw it leaning against one of the walls, and snatched it up with the hand that was already starting to clot up. Running for one of the hills in Gravity Falls. He wanted fast. He wanted to feel the wind whipping in Dipper’s long hair and hitting his face at full force. He wanted to feel the speed rushing in his ears.

He didn’t want it anymore. He _needed_ it.

When he got up to the top of the steepest hill, he forgot how to not be impulsive. He sat himself on the sled, and tilted it downward, bracing for the fall.

It was going too fast, too fast for him to register, but he was heading straight for a tree. All he could remember was crushing into slices of bark and the warm feeling of blood gushing before the throbbing pain became a dull, black ache and he fell out of Dipper’s body.


	21. Snowman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was fresh out of ideas for this one so my brother suggested something and i just rolled with it
> 
> this chapter is pure crackfic so if you wanna skip it go right ahead

Sometime in like, 1969, there was this pink snowman. There was another snowman, but this one wasn’t pink, but it was also a male snowman. Yeah, snowpeople shouldn’t be gendered and shit, but this chapter is pure crackfic and I’m too tired to care. Anyway, so, the two snowmen were talking, and fuck anyone who says snowmen aren’t sentient and can’t talk because they fucking can and you’re wrong, and the pink snowman’s like, “Hey, you wanna fuck?”

And the other snowman’s like, “Wtf dude? We’re both guys, and we’re fucking snowmen, snowmen don’t have sexual organs,”

So the first snowman’s like, “Dude, we’re talking snowmen, I’m pretty sure we can fuck. And also, I like guys and shit, so it’s cool.”

“Oh, so you’re like, gay?”

“Nah man, do you think everyone’s just gay or straight? Black or white? I’m fuckin pink for Satan’s sake,”

“Shut up SJW, go back to Tumblr,” says the meninist-sounding white snowman. (Heh. I wasn’t implying he’s white in a racial sense but it sounds funnier that way.)

“The fuck man, it’s 1969, Tumblr doesn’t exist yet,”

“Yeah, you’re right. We should just fuck.”

So the pink and the white snowman fuck and holy shit it turns out the white snowman is a trans dude and well, the pink snowman’s the top to be brutally honest, and let’s be real here, snowman condoms don’t exist, so we all know where this goes.

The pink snowman ejaculates pink ice cream into the trans snow dude and he’s instantly pregnant, except the freaky thing is he can feel the fetus kick, and in case you don’t already know, snowpeople don’t have feet or legs, so what the fuck dude.

Anyway.

So like, snowmen defy the laws of nature in case you haven’t already grasped that by this point, so snowpeople pregnancies last like, a day. The white snowman is freaking the fuck out because not only is the parasite fetus kicking, but it’s fucking screaming too, and it is pretty damn horrifying. 

The fetus thing lets out this bloodcurdling scream and starts to tear the snowman’s organs apart from the inside, before clawing its way out of the middle piece of the snowman and tearing through. And the pink snowman is just like, “Holy shit.”

So the white snowman’s dead. (Poor dude. I actually liked him. He’s trans like me, I feel for the poor bro.) And the fetus thing is transforming and morphing right in front of the pink snowman’s eyes, first growing into this grotesque spindly creature, before forming a humanoid shape.

“The gay christ child is born!” the pink snowman cries, hailing at the still naked, pink-goo covered man’s feet.

“The fuck, dude,” the gay christ child says.

“I’m hailing you, you’re the prophesized gay christ child,” and the snowman rises, “and you must be named. I’m naming you Jimmy,”

“Why Jimmy?”

“You look like a Jimmy.”

“Okay, fair. What’s my last name? Christ?”

“Jimmy Christ sounds stupid. Your name’s gonna be Jimmy Urine.”

“Sick. As if that doesn’t sound stupid,”

“Hey, shut up, I impregnated you into this world, I can unimpregnate you right back.”

“Alright, dad.”

“Well, I must be back to my temple or worship,” the pink snowman says, transcending into the rainbow realm.

Jimmy, the gay christ child, later discovers he can cum pink ice cream.


	22. Jingle Bells

“I’m not in a good place right now.”

“Like, figuratively or literally?”

Dipper sighed through the phone. “I mean, it’s pretty shitty right here too,” he said, gesturing to the cheap motel room around him to nobody that could see it over the phone. And he wasn’t wrong. On top of everything, he was an a busy street in a rundown motel with paper-thin walls. He could hear every tire screech and horn honking, late night shoppers coddling their crying kids, Salvation Army bell ringers on street corners.

“Tell me about it,” Mabel said.

Well, for one, Mabel had the comforts of home and was a state away, warm inside the Shack for Christmas. She had family surrounding her. Dipper’s flight was delayed, it’s been snow storming for the last few days, his newly flat chest was aching, and he was running out of money.

“Look on the bright side, at least your surgery went well,”

Dipper chuckled. At least he had dysphoria off his plate; that’s once less thing to worry about. “Yeah, you’re right. But these drains still hurt like hell,”

“I’m sorry, bro-bro.”

“I am too.” He kept the phone at his ear, but started to drift off a little. “I wish I could be at home with you and Stan. It sucks spending break alone, somewhere I don’t know,”

“I miss you so much, Dipper. We all do. Grunkle Stan wanted me to ask, speaking of him, if you’re doing okay,”

“Tell him I’m doing so much better than I ever have been. A little bit sore, but good nonetheless.”

“I’ll make sure to in the morning. It’s super late.”

“Yeah. I can’t fall asleep, it’s so loud outside.”

“Well, tell me what you hear. What’s it like out there?”

Dipper rolled to his side and winced. “For one, it’s cold,” he muttered, tossing a stiff motel blanket over himself. Then he settled, relaxing a little bit on the uncomfortable bed, outside noise cluttering his senses. “I hear cars. Mostly moving, like the engines roaring and stuff, but the holiday shopping has traffic backed up so bad, I hear honking every thirty seconds.”

“Mmm,” Mabel nodded in confirmation. “Anyone yelling?”

“It’s Washington, Mabes, not New York,”

“Right, right. But still. Is it just traffic?”

“I mean, it’s those bells too. Y’know those charities that stand outside stores and stuff, with those red donation buckets? Ringing the bells?”

“Those too? It’s like, midnight,”

“Yeah, well, they never stop. I know it’s for a good cause, but it’s Salvation Army and shit like that. It’s not like the money’s going to anyone who is really in need, just more anti-gay charities.”

“And anti semitic groups,” she added.

Dipper clicked his tongue. “Oh yeah, that too.” He gagged. “I don’t know what purpose they think they’re serving, other than keeping people awake.”

Mabel yawned. “I’m sure you’ll fall asleep eventually,”

There was a long silence, before Dipper released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I really hope I can make the next flight back to Oregon before Christmas,”

For a second Dipper thought Mabel fell asleep on him, but she replied, “I hope so too.” Then, after another pause, “What are Jews like us doing celebrating Christmas, anyway?”

Dipper bark-laughed in surprise. “Ask Stan. I have no clue.”


	23. Carols

“Sing me to sleep, Tyler,”

Tyler swears he could fall asleep like this every night. Fingers curled in Josh’s hair, rubbing his back until his boyfriend finally fell asleep. Listening to his soft breathing until he drifted off too.

“What do you want me to sing you, baby?”

Josh nuzzled his face in Tyler’s shoulder. “Anything. Your voice is so pretty,”

He flushed, petting his boyfriend’s hair. “Hush now my baby, hush now my love, the angels are watching from heaven above…”

Tyler got so lost in Josh’s sleepy eyes that he trailed off. Josh nudged him, and he picked back up where he left off. “I know that I love you, I know that it’s true, I’ll stay here beside you whatever you do.”

He curled up against Josh, beginning to feel sleep washing over him too. 

Just as his eyelids grew to heavy to keep open, Josh nudged him again. “Sing me a Christmas song,”

He obliged, because it was Christmas Eve, and this was his favorite person in the world. He drew in a breath, then sang from deep in his diaphragm. Softly, but warmly, as lush as possible.

“Silent night, holy night,” he pressed a kiss to Josh’s temple. “All is calm. All is bright.” He could feel his own warm breath reverb off of Josh’s skin and back on his.

“Round yon virgin mother and child, holy infant so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace,”

He could tell Josh was already asleep, hearing the faint tell-tale snoring. But he kept singing anyway. This was his favorite person. He loved Josh more than the sun loved the moon.

“Sleep in heavenly peace.”


	24. Chestnuts

It was near dusk, just barely a breeze in the deserted woods. Dipper set his backpack down, sitting himself on a lot in front of the forest fire he’d gathered. This was perfect. ‘Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,’ as they’d say.

You know, whenever Dipper thought he had some peace and quiet, Bill loved to so rudely interrupt him.

“Maybe if you just stopped randomly appearing everywhere, our relationship would be perfect.”

“You love me, Pine Tree.” He made himself comfy next to Dipper on the log, pulling out some marshmallows from his backpack.

“What made you so sure I’d have any in there?”

“Kid, you like to forget I’m an all-knowing demon,” he sprawled himself out on the log and on Dipper’s lap. The younger boy sighed, running his hands through Bill’s gold hair.

“I can’t stay mad at you,” he admitted, before Bill reached up and pinched one of his cheeks. “Fuck you,” he finished, making the older teen fake-pout.

“C’mon, don’t be so mean, it’s Christmastime.”

“As if you celebrate it. You just said so yourself, you’re a fucking demon.”

“Well, everyone loves the season of giving,” he moaned, running a hand down Dipper’s chest and stopping at the waistline of his jeans. “Why don’t I give you your present?”

Dipper choked, face going ghost-pale. “You’re joking, right?” he stuttered.

Bill ran his gloved fingers over the crotch of Dipper’s jeans. “Nah,” he punctuated, looking up at him with bedroom eyes.

“Jesus, man, I just came here to roast chestnuts and marshmallows,” he said, waving a stick topped with a marshmallow in his face to accentuate his point.

“Yeah, well, it’s Christmastime,” he sat up and leaned in close. “And I’m in a giving mood. Don’t you want your present?” He played with the younger teen’s zipper, teasing at the growing bulge beneath it.

“Y-, yeah…” Dipper choked out, blushing hard.

Bill pulled Dipper’s fly down and unbuttoned his pants, leaning in all the way to press his lips to his, their breath warm and intertwining. He reached a hand into Dipper’s boxers, jerking him off lazily. “You didn’t really come all the way out here to roast chestnuts,” he breathed into Dipper’s ear after breaking away from the kiss, pumping him more roughly. “Don’t think I don’t know that.”

He whimpered in response, arching up into Bill’s hand.

Bill growled and nibbled at the tip of his boyfriend’s ear, making him moan in breathy, high-pitched intervals. “I wanna hear you, Pine Tree,”

Dipper shrieked, twitching in Bill’s hand and thrusting up. He was a lot closer than he wanted to be, but fuck, this just felt right. He whimpered again, mouth widening in an almost-scream, gripping and his boyfriend’s shirt. “ _Bill,_ ”

“Close already?” he taunted, gripping tighter and moving his hand faster. Dipper moaned uncontrollably, reaching his hand up to bite on it before Bill took his wrist and pulled it away. “I already told you, I wanna hear you,”

Dipper bit his lip and shook, gasping and breathing hard. “Bill, please,”

“That’s it, Pine Tree,” he praised, jerking his cock relentlessly and not easing off until he came.

He collapsed on top of Bill afterward, letting out an awkward, spent grunt. They stayed tangled up like that for a few minutes, before Bill helped zip Dipper’s jeans back up.

“Y’know, while we’re here, maybe we can actually cook some marshmallows,” he suggested.

Dipper nodded, already half-asleep on Bill’s chest.


	25. Christmas Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i never found time to post this until now, but here it is. happy holidays, everyone.

Tyler couldn’t believe the year was almost over. It flew past him so fast, if he blinked he might’ve missed it. It was unbelievable, he thought, as he looked down at the ring on his finger.

_How did I get here?_ He just laughed at himself. He knew, but the bigger question on his mind was, _How did I make it here?_

Instead of dwelling on it, he let his shoulders go lax and accepted it. All that mattered was that he was here now. He felt arms wrapping around him from behind, and everything eased into place. He was the luckiest man on earth, he got to spend the holidays with his new-found boyfriend.

Josh placed a kiss to Tyler’s temples, bringing him in tighter. “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,”

Being the day after Christmas, Tyler chuckled and playfully slapped him. Finally, there was snow on the ground. The lights glowed slightly out of focus. Maybe it wasn’t the holiday itself, but the warmth it came with. Really, he had the best present he could ask for right in his arms.

He hugged the arms around him. “Everywhere you go,”


End file.
